T is for Team, T is for Trust
by Titan5
Summary: Sheppard's team changes over the years, but they will always be important to him and he will always strive to protect them.


**Disclaimer: **None of this is mine – just borrowing it for a while since the owners have abandoned the world and its inhabitants.

**Author's Note: **This was written for the 2012 Secret Santa exchange at Sheppard HC on LJ.

**T is for Team, T is for Trust**

_**Bagram Air Base, Afghanistan 2002**_

Major John Sheppard shut the water off and began to soap up. Real showers with constantly running water was near the top of his _things I miss about being home _list. He understood the need to conserve water. They were in the middle of a desert after all. Unfortunately that did little to make his three minute shower feel like the real thing.

He was just about to turn the water back on so he could rinse off when he heard something. John began turning toward the sound when a deluge of ice cold water dumped on him from above. As he stood gasping for air, his attackers laughed and scrambled around trying to make their escape. Wiping the shampoo from his face, all he could think of was how he was going to kill Mitch and Dex.

Ten minutes later John walked back to the B-hut he shared with seven other men. Three steps out of the building, the water from his wet hair was dripping down to blend in with the sweat rolling off his back. His ice dunking hadn't cooled him off for long, but it had been startling none the less. When he reached the barracks, he threw open the door, needing the huge bang that it made, and marched in.

The building was 18 feet by 36 feet with a door at each end. A central hall connected the two doors and the space on either side of the hall was divided into four rooms. Each room was separated from the adjoining rooms with a paper-thin wall, but only a curtain stood between it and the hall. John's room was on the end with Holland next to him. Across the hall were Mitch and Dex's room. During the day they all tended to open their curtains so they could sit in their rooms, but still talk with each other.

Mitch and Dex were both in Mitch's room on the end, sitting on his bunk playing cards. Holland was sitting in his room writing a letter, probably to his wife. All three looked up at the sound of the door banging shut. John stood glaring at Mitch and Dex while they tried to look innocent.

"Care to tell me what that was all about?" John wasn't nearly as furious as he'd been ten minutes ago, but he was still mad. Showering under the extreme water conservation rules was tedious enough without being interrupted by childish pranks. He supposed he should be glad it wasn't the middle of winter, in which case he'd most likely be punching them instead of yelling.

Holland's eyebrows rose up almost into his hairline. "What did you two do?"

Mitch and Dex both looked at their cards, making an exaggerated show of seeming unconcerned. "No idea what you are talking about," said Mitch. "We're just playing cards."

"Yeah, well fifteen minutes ago you were dumping ice cold water on me in the shower. I heard the two of you laughing so I know it was you." John turned a frown toward Holland when he snickered.

"I wondered what the rush to play cards was," Holland said with a chuckle.

The two pranksters finally gave it up and dropped their cards on the bunk as they began laughing. "You should have heard him shriek," said Dex, falling over on his side as he continued to giggle.

John crossed his arms over his chest. "I did not shriek. I may have yelped. That water was cold. Mind enlightening me on the why or were you two just being idiots?"

Mitch wiped his face and seemed to catch his breath enough to answer. "You might think twice about taking the last piece of chocolate cake next time."

John's mouth dropped open a few seconds before he regained his composure and closed it. He looked at Holland, who looked almost as surprised as he felt, and then shifted his gaze back to the two crazy pilots he shared bunkspace with.

"Seriously? How _old _are you two? I just grabbed a piece of cake. I didn't realize it was the last piece until you two pointed it out at the table. If it was that big of a deal, why didn't you say anything?"

Dex shrugged his shoulders. "We shouldn't have to. You should have offered to share."

John didn't even know what to say. He looked to Holland for help, but the man just cracked up and looked away, avoiding John's glare. "Oh for heaven's sake," he complained as he headed for his bunk.

The instant his rear touched the bed, the door to the barracks burst open and Sgt. McMasters stepped in and looked around.

"Good, you're all here. The colonel needs to see you in the ready room, pronto."

All four men were up and moving before McMasters was back out the door. The meeting didn't take long, the end result being two Pave Hawks on their way to pick up ground troops that had been trapped behind moving enemy forces. Mitch and Dex were in one chopper with medical personnel for the injured. John and Holland had the other craft to help provide cover and pick up the rest of the troops.

Soon after take-off, John radioed Mitch. "Hey, I've got a plan. Let's circle around west of them and come in from the north. I don't think anyone will be expecting that and hopefully it'll give us a few extra minutes to get in and out without taking fire." Holland gave him a nod from the other pilot's seat, indicating he liked that plan.

The radio crackled briefly before Mitch's voice came through. _"Negative Shep. They've got injured so we need to get to them as soon as possible."_

John growled a little under his breath. "I know they have injured, but if we all get blown up trying to extract them we haven't accomplished anything. I know a way to come in around a mountain that shouldn't take more than a few extra minutes but will give us lots of cover and catch the Taliban forces off guard. Trust me on this."

"_It's not a matter of trust, it's a matter of expediency buddy. You do what you want, but we're taking the direct path. Either way, see you there."_

"Crap," John muttered. He knew he was right about needing the element of surprise. And Mitch could say what he wanted but it _was_ a matter of trust. Mitch and Dex were two of his best friends in the world, but they never seemed to see the whole picture. They reminded John of kids in more ways than one.

"What do you wanna do?" asked Holland.

"I guess we follow them in and hope we don't all get blown to kingdom come. We can't let them go in by themselves and if we circle around, they'll get there five minutes ahead of us. Idiots."

Holland sighed. "They are idiots for sure, but they're our idiots. I guess we should try to look after them." Holland laughed and looked over at John. "New plan. Next time you and I are the main pilots; we make Dex and Mitch be our copilots. Putting them together is like pairing up Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum."

"Amen to that," John muttered, watching the helicopter in front of him and hoping for the best. When they reached the pick up site, Mitch went in first to pick up the wounded. As John and Holland brought their ship in to position, he could see men carrying wounded swarming up to the side of the other helicopter, now sitting on the ground.

"Mitch, in and out as quick as you can. I've got a bad feeling a . . Mitch!" John saw the RPG just before it hit Mitch and Dex's chopper. The explosion rocked the ship that was still in the air and it took both pilots to hold their position. When the helicopter stabilized, John stared at the flaming wreckage below, his mind refusing to process what he'd just seen. He blinked a couple of times, hoping the image in front of him would change.

"S-Shep?" Holland's voice was weak and strangled but it got John's attention.

"Yeah, I . . . I know." John took a deep breath and scanned the area. Four men were off to their left, picking themselves up off the ground. "We've got survivors. Jennings, keep your eyes open while we pick up our men."

"Yes, sir," the gunner answered, looking a bit shell shocked.

"Idiots," Holland muttered under his breath, his eyes going back to what was left of the chopper. "I'm gonna miss them."

John let out a slow breath, blanking his mind and refusing to think about it. He would have to deal with this later. Right now he had people to get back to base in one piece. Then maybe he could get really drunk and then go pound on something.

_**Atlantis 2004**_

John blinked and rubbed his eyes. Staring down at the half full cup in his hand, he swirled coffee so weak it was one step beyond colored water. After six months in the Ancient city of Atlantis, they were at the end of their coffee supply and the mess hall staff was obviously trying to stretch it. He gave up on drinking it and yawned.

"Hey, Major."

Glancing up, John watched an obnoxiously peppy Lt. Ford plop his tray down across from him and then plop himself into a chair. John grunted, too tired for much more of a response. He'd decided that getting old sucked and watching Ford be all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed just cemented that particular view. "I take it you slept well?"

Ford nodded as he chewed. After a few moments, the young marine looked up at John as if to comment, then stopped and studied his commanding officer. "Uh, sir? You don't look so hot."

One eyebrow arched upward, almost on its own volition. He knew how he looked. He'd seen the dark circles under his eyes in the mirror. "Yeah, I know. My room alternated between meat locker and sauna. Then the shower turned into ice water about halfway through. Not my best day so far."

"Wow, that sounds awful. You think your environmental controls were messed up?" Ford looked at him with such clueless innocence that it was hard to believe he was in the marines.

Looking past the lieutenant, John grimaced. "Oh, I think I know what the problem was. I just don't know why."

"What?" Ford looked totally confused as Rodney McKay set his tray down next to him and smirked at John.

"Major? You look a little tired this morning. Problems sleeping?"

John glared at the scientist, trying to push the anger down. His headache was escalating and shouting at Rodney was only going to make it worse. Letting out a deep breath, he calmly asked, "Care to tell me why you made my life a living hell the past eight hours?"

Teyla was just sitting down beside him and sent a questioning look to Ford, who shrugged his shoulders. John ignored them both to concentrate on Rodney. He had no doubt who was behind his latest misery and he was determined to find out why.

Rodney put on his best innocent expression as he chewed his food and sipped his coffee, making a face that mirrored John's opinion of the watery drink. Then he wiped his mouth and looked at John. "If you had trouble with the environmentals, you should have called someone."

"Don't even try, Rodney, I'm not in the mood. I've had no sleep because every time I dozed off, the temperature changed drastically and I had to keep changing clothes and moving blankets. Then my shower turns to ice about the time I get all lathered up. Besides freezing to death, I got soap in my eyes. I have the headache from hell and right now I just want to know why? I'm assuming this is payback for something, but I'm too tired to try to figure it out."

Rodney snorted. "Really? You don't remember taking the last piece of cake last night when that was the last of our cocoa? And being greedy, you took the last _two _pieces and ran off with them."

John stared at the physicist. He didn't really know McKay all that well, having only met him six months ago, but he had become painfully aware of the man's ego, love of food, hypochondria, and don't forget his love of food (especially chocolate). And still he hadn't expected this. The man had two PhDs, for heaven's sake.

"You have got to be kidding me." John opened and closed his mouth a few times, but he couldn't find the words. Mitch and Dex and their last prank flared bright in his mind, making him want to be somewhere else. Anywhere else. He started to get up, but Teyla put her hand on his arm, stopping him.

"John, let me explain." She turned to Rodney, her expression tense and almost angry. "Last night I was sitting with Tamrin and his mother in the infirmary. He fell yesterday and broke his arm. He also hit his head, so Dr. Beckett wanted to keep him until morning. John was bringing the cake to them to help cheer them up. They were both missing the rest of the family and feeling very uncomfortable being away. John did not eat either piece of cake. He was merely trying to help two people from my village feel better about being away from their home. I believe you owe him an apology."

If John hadn't felt so bad, it might have been worth all the trouble to see Rodney look so flustered. He was apparently rarely wrong about things and not used to handing out apologies. The man began sputtering like an old water kettle, making John smile in spite of himself. Teyla looked like a monitoring parent and Ford was snickering like a younger sibling enjoying his brother get in trouble.

"_Major Sheppard to the control room."_

John sighed and tapped his radio. "This is Sheppard. On my way." Looks like he was never getting that apology. "Ford, you might want to teach genius here the rule about assumptions," he said as he stood. Giving a nod and a smile to Teyla, he headed for the control room.

He found Elizabeth and Bates standing next to the railing overlooking the gate. Bates had on his stern, badass expression (but then when didn't he?). Elizabeth looked relieved when she saw him approaching and that set him on high alert. "What's going on?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth but Bates jumped in, cutting her off. This could not be good.

"Sir, Malcolm's team is a half hour overdue. We've opened the gate and radioed them twice with no reply. MALP shows two men guarding the gate and they have weapons that look like crude rifles."

Crap. This day just continued to go downhill and it was barely 0800. John thought a moment, mentally pulling up everything he could remember about the mission and the planet. "Okay, they were going to trade with the Cossnians, right?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Yes, Dr. Beckett conducted a clinic there last week and we're trading medical treatment and help with the planting and harvest for food staples we badly need."

"Right. No sign of weapons beyond knives and bows and arrows so it's likely they came under attack and our people just happened to be there." John really hated bullies.

"With all due respect, sir, the Genii didn't show any advanced weapons at first either. And we contacted these people through Teyla, _again_. Maybe they fooled your team into trusting them like the Genii did." Bates had that superior, smug expression he pulled out when he thought he'd made his CO look like a fool. John was about ninety percent sure that's exactly what Bates thought he was, a big fool.

Ignoring Bates, John turned to Elizabeth, refusing to acknowledge the jab. "I know there are trees close to the gate, but I can get a jumper through with some quick maneuvering."

"Go in cloaked?" she asked, a smile forming as she picked up on his plan.

He nodded. "Two jumpers with lots of men and firepower since we don't know what we're walking into. Based on the preliminary report, there's an ideal landing spot on the far side of the settlement. If they're expecting us to come after our people, they won't be expecting it from that direction. Hopefully we'll catch them off guard."

Bates shook his head and scowled at John. "Sir, I have to disagree."

"Of course you do," John muttered.

Bates ignored him and continued. "We have no idea what kind of forces they have or if the villagers are involved. We don't know how effective their weapons are. And with all due respect, we don't even know if our men are alive or not. For all we know, they're already dead."

John felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck as he bristled at the comment. "We don't leave our people behind and we definitely don't leave them in enemy hands. Until I see bodies, I'll assume they're alive and to be honest, I'd go after them even if I thought they were dead."

"So you'd risk the lives of those in your command to go after the dead? But then I guess anyone who would crash a $15 million helicopter to retrieve a body is willing to risk anything,"

John felt the heat rise to his face as his anger almost boiled over. It was all he could do to keep from belting the sergeant. "It was $15.8 million if you're counting. Holland was alive when I got to him. He died in the arms of a friend instead of alone or at the hands of the enemy. Even if I had known I couldn't save him, I still would have gone. I hope somewhere out there is someone who would come for me if I was in enemy hands."

"There is," Elizabeth said firmly. John gave her a nod of appreciation. He knew she meant it. When you were in the hands of not so friendly forces, knowing people were looking for you made all the difference. He hoped his men knew he would come for them.

John turned back to Bates. "I'm going after our people. You can help or get out of my way. I'm assuming you don't want to be a part of the rescue?"

"I need to be here in case something happens to you and Lt. Ford."

John snorted. "Yeah, that's what I thought." He turned to Elizabeth, dismissing Bates from his mind. "Get Markam, Johnson, and Ramirez's teams to meet me in the ready room and I'll round up my team. We should be ready to embark in fifteen minutes."

Elizabeth nodded. "Bring them home, John."

"We will." He just hoped they were bringing them back alive and not in body bags.

Fifteen minutes later, two jumpers flew through the gate to M3X-223, cloaking the instant they emerged. To cover their passage, Elizabeth threw an old coffee container through the gate with a message in it requesting a meeting to arrange the return of her people. The guards were so busy first aiming at the can and then scrambling to see what it was that they completely missed the jumpers.

"Well, step one worked out like we'd planned," said John, more to himself than anyone else. The jumper was crowded with his team up front and Johnson's team plus a couple of extra marines he'd picked up at the last minute in the back. When they reached the settlement, he flew a little lower so he could scope out the situation.

The settlement was comprised of around fifty small wooden homes radiating out from the center of town like spokes on a wheel. The center of the wheel was made up of four rectangular common buildings, each about the size of four or five houses put together. These were used for meetings, celebrations, trading, and festivals. The streets were usually filled with people moving about working or visiting or trading. They were almost barren now except for a few armed men that looked nothing like the Cossnians.

"It'll be dark soon," commented Rodney.

"Yeah, that's what I'm counting on." The day/night cycle on this planet was almost directly opposite that of Atlantis. The quickly approaching nightfall was messing with his mind, which was still stuck in morning mode. Shaking off the lethargy from no sleep, he headed the jumper toward the far side of the town.

Once the jumpers were secured and his men assembled in a small clearing, John explained his plan. "The easternmost common building has four men posted around it and it's the only one being guarded. I'm guessing that's where our people are. My team will take the front door and Markam's will take the back. Be as quiet as possible. Johnson's team take the eastern side of the building and Ramirez takes the west. Spread out and make a perimeter about thirty feet out. Let us know of any incoming problems you can't take care of."

Everyone nodded their understanding. John made eye contact with each team leader to ensure they knew what their responsibility was. "Our first priority is getting our people back. If we can do some pest control while we're here, then I'm all for it. We can come back and finish the job later if we need to. Questions?" When no one said anything, John gave them a nod. "Let's do this."

It only took twenty minutes to quietly make their way to the common building. John and Ford quietly eliminated the two guards at the front door. Two clicks on the radio told John that the back door was clear as well. Nodding at Ford, he knocked twice on the door. A moment later it began to open. The lieutenant grabbed the man in the doorway and yanked him out while John rushed in, crouched over and gun up. Two men sat at a table, their eyes wide.

"Don't move," John hissed, aiming his gun at the men. The rest of his team filed in behind him. "Where are my men?" When they didn't answer immediately, John walked around the table and stuck his gun right in the face of the first man. "Last time I ask. Where . . are . . my . . men?"

The man was unshaven, with stringy blonde hair almost to his shoulders. He audibly gulped as he studied John. "I . . . uh . . . " He flinched when John leaned in a little closer. "Okay, okay, last room on the right at the end of the hall."

"How many more of your people are in the building?" asked Ford.

"No one else. The door is locked. The key is on the shelf over there."

Markam was closest to the shelves the man indicated. He looked for a moment before holding up the key. John nodded. "Tie them up and see if you can find out how many of these guys there are and what they wanted. We'll go get Malcolm's team." Markam passed him the key as his team made their way across the large meeting room to a short hall with three rooms on each side. Not truly trusting the thug's information, they proceeded cautiously with their guns up and ready. John opened the door that was supposed to contain their missing team and looked in.

The captured men were battered and bruised and huddled against the far wall. Their heads shot up as one at the sound of the door opening. Expressions of anger and apprehension gave way to smiles when they got a look at the team.

John held out his hand to Sgt. Malcolm and pulled him to his feet. "I heard you guys needed a hand getting home."

Malcolm chuckled. "You heard right. Thank you, sir."

"No problem." John studied the other men as they got to their feet. "You guys okay? Anyone injured?"

"Yen got shot in the arm," Malcolm reported. "Other than that, just some bruises and scratches. They wanted more weapons like ours and didn't take too kindly to us refusing to help them get some. There's about thirty-five of them, all armed with muzzle-loading rifles. They surrounded the village, just looking to raid it for everything of value. Once they saw our weapons, they decided to hang around until they could get more. I'm really sorry, sir. We let our guard down."

John shook his head. "You were seriously outnumbered and if I know you, you were trying to prevent civilian casualties. I'm just glad you guys are all in one piece. Let's get you out of here."

John led the way back to the entrance. After a few minutes discussion, they decided there was no one injured seriously enough to make immediate return to Atlantis a necessity. With the encouragement and approval of the previous captives, a plan was formulated to neutralize the remaining raider forces. Once the prisoners were securely bound, they were locked in one of the smaller rooms in case any of their friends wandered into the building.

About a third of the marauders were bunking down in the adjacent common building. There was only one guard inside and he was quickly neutralized. The sleeping men were quickly bound and gagged. The Lantean forces then spread out to take care of the rest of the thugs that invaded the village.

It took the better part of two hours to rid the village and surrounding area of the raiders. The men were scattered around in groups of two or three, mostly keeping watch. The people from the settlement had been told to stay inside or they would be shot on sight and they had complied. That made it easier on the people from Atlantis. Anyone outside was to be taken down. Since they had the element of surprise, very few had been killed.

The bad guys were all moved into one building and secured. Johnson's team was to stand guard until John could return with a fresh team. He met briefly with the village elders, who were very grateful for the Lantean's intervention, to explain that he would return the next day to discuss the fate of their captives. On the plus side, they wouldn't have any trouble getting their food supplies supplemented by the Cossnians, who were already talking about things they could add to the previous agreement.

Malcolm's team had already headed for the jumpers with Ramirez's team playing escort. Markam's team joined John's for the short hike. It was still dark and they were all tired, so they had set a leisurely pace. John tuned in to the conversation around him as they walked.

"And I'll bet we could get some of that stuff that tastes like chocolate. I know they don't have a lot and it depends on what they can collect from the forest, but they're willing to give us just about anything right now," boasted McKay.

"Surely you would not take advantage of their gratitude for your own gain. The Cossnians are a simple people, much like my people. They cannot afford to give too much or they will not have enough to make it through the winter. To cheat them would be wrong," said Teyla. Her voice was strained, as if worried about how the people from Earth would treat their allies.

"No one's going to be cheated here," said John. "If they have a few extras they can throw in without leaving themselves short, then we can use it. They are also a proud people and will want to feel like they have done something to thank us."

Teyla glanced at him and the frown across her brow relaxed. "You are right of course. I know you and Elizabeth will make sure the trade is fair."

Thinking he heard someone coming up on his right, John stopped and began turning to peer through the dark. The sound of the shot seemed to echo around the cluster of trees as the impact sent John flying back. The pain of hitting the ground was quickly followed by a burning pain in his right side. There were shots and shouting and movement around him, but John was so focused on pulling in his next breath and not curling up in pain that he was only vaguely aware of it. Then someone was moving him around and pulling on his vest and shirt.

" . . . all going to be killed. Maybe there's more of them out there, just waiting to shoot us before we make it back to the jumper. Oh no, he's the pilot! How are we going to get home? I mean I know I have the gene but he's only taken me out once or twice and I've never landed or tried to go through the gate and what if –"

"McKay, shut up." Ford sounded kind of pissed. "Just shut up. The major isn't the only one with the gene that can fly. You need to calm down."

"It probably won't even matter because I'm sure we'll all be killed before we get three –"

"McKay. I'm telling you, you need to calm down or I'm going to shoot you myself."

"What? You can't. Teyla, tell him he can't shoot me. I mean you wouldn't, would you?"

John had heard enough. He was not aware of Teyla pulling a field bandage around him and it hurt like crazy. He didn't have the patience for this. "Ford, no shooting team members."

Everyone crouched down beside him, asking him all at once how he was. John groaned and then coughed. "I've been shot. It hurts. But I'll live. I think."

Rodney sighed dramatically. "Thank goodness. Can you drive us home because I don't think I can get us there and even if I do, I don't know how to land yet."

"Major, are you sure I can't shoot him?" asked Ford, looking annoyed.

"Yes. We might need him." Rodney looked smug for about one second before looking hurt. "And McKay, you really do need to calm down. Donnelly had plenty of experience with the jumpers. He'll have no trouble getting us back."

Ramirez walked up and looked down at his CO. "Major, we've eliminated the shooter and done a sweep of the surrounding area. It looks clear from here to the jumper. I guess we just missed one."

"Ya think?" asked Rodney.

"McKay," John drawled. He was really going to have to work on McKay's panic tendencies and people skills.

"Right, sorry. But can we go now?"

John grinned. "Yeah, give me a hand up."

oOo

John opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, trying to figure out why his mouth was so dry. Blinking, he opened his eyes to find his team watching him. His eyes drifted closed again, but the head of his bed rose until he was half sitting up, so he gave it another try. This time Carson Beckett was standing there grinning at him.

"Nice of you to join us, Major. Would you like a few ice chips?"

John kind of grunted in the affirmative and was rewarded with a couple of small slivers of ice. He moaned in contentment before he realized what he was doing, but it was worth it when he got more ice. His dry mouth seemed to soak most of it up, allowing only a small amount to soothe this throat.

His team had moved around the bed and Elizabeth had appeared from somewhere to join the group. He shifted a little and received a small burst of pain from along the right side of his ribcage for his efforts. It was muted enough that a hitch in his breathing was the only outward sign. Taking further stock of his condition, he made note of the IV and nasal cannula.

"John, do you remember what happened?" asked Elizabeth.

"Yeah. Shot by one of the raiders." He looked up at Beckett and decided the good doctor's expression didn't look too foreboding. "So, how'm I doing Doc?"

"Not too bad, considering. You were shot with something resembling a musket ball. Fortunately the velocity it was fired with was not near what our weapons are. It broke a rib and nicked your lung and the liver. Damage wasn't too extensive to either organ, though and I expect you'll recover if you take it easy for a while and follow doctor's orders." Beckett checked his tubes and such and then left them to visit.

"How's Malcolm and his team?" John asked.

"They're okay. They've all been released to their quarters to rest for a few days." Elizabeth smiled and squeezed his arm. "You did good. You brought all our people home safely."

"Well, except for yourself of course," added Rodney with a smirk.

"Did anyone send replacements for Johnson's team?"

"I did," said Ford. "What do you want to do about the raiders? The villagers don't really have a prison as such and we don't have room to bring them all here."

Elizabeth frowned. "Major Sheppard is supposed to be resting, not making military decisions five minutes after he wakes up from major surgery."

Ford shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry. I guess we can keep guarding them until the major is better."

John rubbed his face. "The major is going to have a hard time resting with this hanging over him. Where are they from? Are there more of them on a planet somewhere?"

"They are apparently from a planet that was heavily culled about a year ago. Much of their town was destroyed. Many of their people began working to rebuild, but this group decided that was fruitless, as it would eventually be destroyed again. Their leader, Magness, has led them to several planets to take what they wanted. We found that many of the men in his group were barely more than boys, young and easily influenced."

John nodded at Teyla, appreciating the information she had gathered. "Teyla, could you go with Markam's team to their home planet to talk to them? Find out more about this group and about the people there. See if there's anything we can do to help them. I need to talk to Markam before you go." He wanted to discuss procedures for scouting the settlement out before they revealed themselves. "Then I need to talk to this Magness guy, find out if we should give him a chance or just dump them on a planet with a space gate." Personally, John was voting for the space gate planet.

oOo

John jerked awake, the sudden gunshot in his dream startling him awake. Rubbing his face, he glanced around the infirmary and realized he'd slept for several hours. He'd only meant to doze for a few minutes, but either the drugs or the after effects of the anesthesia had pulled him under. His body was stiff, but he knew shifting positions would hurt and he was enjoying being numb right now. He decided the pain potential won out over the urge to move for the moment.

"John?" Elizabeth said softly as she approached his bed. When he looked at her, she smiled. "I wasn't sure if you'd be awake. How are you feeling?"

"Not bad right now," he replied, returning her smile until he noted Bates trailing along behind her.

"Major Sheppard," Bates said.

John grinned at the sergeant. "We managed to bring everyone home alive and in one piece. I guess my plan didn't suck so much after all."

Bates just grimaced. "You got lucky sir. Things could easily have gone the other way."

"I spoke to Malcolm's team," said Elizabeth. "The raiders knew the MALP was gathering information somehow. They had decided if they didn't hear from us by morning they were taking one of our men to execute in front of it to see if they could get our attention."

Bates pursed his lips and looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. "I still think it was a bad-"

"You've made your opinion abundantly clear," John interrupted. "Your unwavering disapproval of pretty much every decision I make is duly noted. Do you have any further information to report?" He knew he was being testy, but his side was starting to hurt and he still felt fuzzy from the drugs, making it hard to think and even harder to deal with nonsense.

Bates neutrally reported the status of the prisoners and Ford's discussion with the settlement elders. Teyla had made contact with the raiders' home planet and was due back at any moment. Bates had decided that it was too much of a security risk to bring Magness to Atlantis. When he finished, John dismissed him, glad to be rid of his security officer's scowl. John was used to having his superiors look down on him like he was a bug. He was still getting used to having someone under his command do the same.

"Penny for your thoughts," said Elizabeth.

John shook off the fog around his brain. "I'm pretty sure you wouldn't get your money's worth right now."

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at him and started to say something, then closed her mouth and shook her head. "He really pushes your buttons, doesn't he?"

John groaned and let his head fall back against the pillows. "I know, I know. He's just doing his job playing the devil's advocate, but I swear he gets way too much pleasure from questioning everything I do. I'm thinking he and Sumner must have been best buddies or something."

Elizabeth was trying to hide her smile, probably to humor him. "He just doesn't appreciate your somewhat unorthodox command style."

"You can say that again. I can give you a long list of folks who would probably have a stroke if they found out I was in command of anything beyond my quarters. Bates doesn't have the market cornered on having a low opinion of me." John hadn't meant to go this direction or say this much. It had to be the drugs.

Elizabeth's smile softened and she touched him lightly on the arm as she leaned in a little. "I happen to disagree with them. I can't think of anyone more qualified or better able to handle the constantly shifting chaos of the Pegasus Galaxy. And I have it on good authority that almost everyone here, military personnel and scientific community included, feel the same way. You're doing a good job, John. Don't let the Bates and the Kavanaughs tell you any differently."

John stared at her for a moment, habit making him look for signs she was joking or teasing him. He hadn't received praise or trust like that from commanding officers in a long time. And while she wasn't his CO, she _was_ his boss. Out here, separated from Earth, it was the same thing. He gave her a quick nod. "Some days I think I'm doing okay. Other days I'm pretty sure I have no clue and I'm going to get us all killed. This is all very new for me." Snorting, he added, "And I'm not just talking about living in the fabled lost city of Atlantis while flying actual spaceships and fighting life-sucking alien vampires."

Elizabeth seemed to study him, making him a little uncomfortable. The last person to trust him like Elizabeth and his team seemed to was Holland, and that hadn't worked out so well for either of them. He was little afraid that if she looked hard enough, she would see that. But after a moment, she cocked her head a little to one side and asked, "Which way do you feel today?"

That was easy. "All our people are home and safe. I'm feeling pretty good today." He grinned. "No matter what Sgt. Bates seems to think." Then he grimaced when he inadvertently shifted positions while talking, which pulled at his injured side. Closing his eyes for a minute, he focused on breathing until the pain subsided. When he opened them again, Teyla was approaching his bed.

"Teyla, you're back," said Elizabeth. "How did it go?"

John nodded and gave the Athosian a small smile to let her know he was okay. Her tense expression eased a bit and she returned the smile and the nod. "Major, I am glad to see you looking better."

"Glad to be getting better," he said.

"Magness and his men were from a planet known as Nearc'tia. I met with the survivors of the Wraith culling and explained what has been going on. As you know, many of the raiders were very young men, what I believe you would call teenagers. Their families are anxious to have them returned and they vow to not let this situation be repeated. They are willing to take the others as well, but they will be locked up at night and made to help with the rebuilding during the day. They were very distressed to find out what their friends and family members have been doing."

John sighed in relief. "Good. I really had no desire to abandon them on some uninhabited planet with a space gate and hope they survived. I don't know that they've killed anyone yet, so maybe there's hope for them."

"I believe there is," said Teyla. "From what the villagers said, they have all been good men in the past, except for Magness. He is what you might call the village trouble-maker. The culling made everyone a little desperate and he took advantage of that, leading many of the young men astray with promises of a grand life where they did not have to worry about the Wraith. I believe they see the deceit in his words now and will be most grateful to return home."

"Good," John said.

"Thank you, Teyla, for working all this out," said Elizabeth. "You're quite the diplomat."

"She kicks butt out in the field, too," said John with a touch of pride.

Teyla just bowed her head a moment and looked embarrassed. "I am only glad I was able to help."

"Now, if she can just figure out how to teach McKay a little humility and how to not freak out in the field, we'll have the perfect team," said John.

Teyla sighed. "I am not sure even the Ancestors could do that."

_**Atlantis 2007**_

Noting the time, John slipped out of his office and into the control room. "Have we heard from McDaniel's team?" he asked as came to a stop behind Chuck.

"No, sir, nothing yet. They were due back almost half an hour ago."

John sighed. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Open the gate and let's see if we can reach them."

"McDaniel's team?" asked Elizabeth as she stepped up beside him.

John nodded, not surprised by her awareness. He knew she always kept check on when teams were supposed to return or check in and if they were late. "They were establishing new trade relations with the people on . . . P7Z-225 right?"

"Yes. They made contact with the people from a village this morning and were going to stay to continue negotiations."

The wormhole swooshed into existence and Chuck nodded at John, who activated his radio. "Lt. McDaniel, this is Atlantis. Please respond." After a few seconds of silence, the radio crackled just as Major Lorne came up the steps to join them.

"_Atlantis, this is Lt. McDaniel." _The sound of gunfire and yelling in the background almost drowned him out. _ "Colonel . . . eed help. We stumbled into . . . ivil war and now . . . ing the town. The gate is cut off, repeat . . . off."_

John frowned as he glanced at Lorne and saw his concern mirrored in his second's face. "Hold on, Lt., we're coming to get you. Find a place to hole up and we will come to you. Do you copy?"

"_Under . . . up . . . brown and yell . . . ing . . . waiting."_

John winced at the broken message, hoping that meant the marine had understood. "We're on our way," he said into the radio. After several seconds it became apparent that the conversation, such as it was, was over. Elizabeth nodded at Chuck and the tech shut the gate down. John rubbed his chin a moment.

"My take on that was that some type of war broke out, sounded like a civil war, and the town was attacked, cutting our guys off from the gate. If I remember correctly, there's no problem getting a jumper in, right?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Plenty of clearance. They didn't take a jumper because the settlement was only about two klicks from the gate and going on foot left less chance of frightening the native people."

"Well, we certainly aren't concerned about that now. Since we don't know these guys well enough to know who are the good guys and who are the bad guys in this fight, I propose a quick extraction of our people and leave the natives to it."

"I agree," said Elizabeth. "We haven't established either side as an ally. The last thing we need is to get embroiled in a civil war with people we don't even know."

Lorne nodded his agreement. "Take two jumpers?" he asked.

"Yeah, exactly what I was thinking. Put one down as close as we can and go get them while the other watches cloaked from the air to keep us updated and maybe lay down some cover fire if needed. Then we grab and go." John looked to Elizabeth.

"Bring them home," Elizabeth said.

"We will," John said with a quick nod before turning to Lorne. "You want the second jumper?"

"Absolutely," Lorne responded.

"Okay, let's grab our teams and meet in the jumper bay in ten minutes. We'll take point and your team can provide cover."

Lorne grimaced. "I was thinking your team could lay down cover fire . . . sir."

John grinned and slapped Lorne on the shoulder. "Privilege of command, Major. Maybe you'll get lucky and have to land and come rescue us."

Lorne brightened. "That's not only possible, it's relatively likely with your team. Thank you sir."

As Lorne rushed off talking into his radio, John turned to a smiling Elizabeth. "I think we just got dissed." Then he too was hurrying across the control room while calling his team on the radio.

oOo

As soon as they were through the gate, John could see the smoke from fires in the town. Pulling up the HUD, he studied it a moment and then set his course. The radio clicked in his ear as Lorne called from the other jumper.

"_Sir, what are we doing?"_

John grinned at the confusion in the major's voice. "There's a huge force on this side of the town, probably trying to cut the whole settlement off from the gate. We're going around to come in through the back door."

"_Copy that." _

Rodney and Ronon had been studying the HUD and they both nodded in acceptance at John's explanation. His mouth was suddenly dry and if he'd been speaking he probably would have stuttered. No one questioned or argued or blatantly ignored his reasoning. He was a good strategist, he always had been. But it seemed like no one ever took him seriously. Even Mitch and Dex, who had been two of the best friends he'd ever had, acted like he couldn't possibly know what he was doing. The realization that he finally had people who trusted his instincts without question almost made him giddy.

"Good call, Sheppard," said Ronon.

John looked down to see wave after wave of soldiers cutting off all access to the city from that side. This led him to wonder how many were already in the city and what was happening to his people. "Lt. McDaniel, we're here. Where are you?"

The transmission this time was clearer than it had been in Atlantis, but there was still a lot of background noise. _"Good to hear your voice, sir. We're in a brown and yellow brick building near the center of town. Some kind of meeting hall I think. Crenshaw took a bullet to the leg, but he says he can walk if someone helps him. What's the plan, sir?"_

"There," Rodney said, pointing to a brown and yellow rectangular building. "Subcutaneous transmitters confirm it."

"We have you located, Lt. Give me a second." John flew over, observing the ground below before activating his radio again. "Okay, looks like you've got some troops moving in from the east, so we're going to park in an open area about three blocks to the west. My team will come get you while Lorne keeps an eye on things from above. I'll let you know when we get there so you don't shoot us."

"_Sounds like a plan. We'll have the welcome mat ready when you get here."_

John grinned. "Copy that." He landed the jumper in a small open field that looked like some sort of park or play area and radioed Lorne what they were going to do. Lorne reminded him that they were available to rescue the team if needed, causing Rodney to snort. Two minutes later they were headed down the street with the sound of gunfire very close.

They met no resistance as they darted from building to building, keeping behind cover as much as possible. Once they reached the square where the team was, the level of danger increased exponentially as gunfire erupted all around them. John was about to radio McDaniel that they were coming in when Corporal Nuhung waved at them from the window. John waved back and then motioned for his team to get to the building.

With McDaniel's team laying down cover fire and John covering his team from the rear, they managed to make it into the building in one piece. Just as they cleared the door, an explosion down the street rocked the building and shattered the few remaining windows. Thrown against the wall, John barely managed to keep his feet under him. Teyla wasn't so lucky. Once the dust and debris stopped raining down from above, John pushed away from the wall and held out his hand. "You okay?"

Taking it Teyla replied, "I am uninjured." John pulled her to her feet and then joined McDaniel and his men.

"What was that?" asked Rodney, brushing himself off.

McDaniel shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. We haven't seen ordinance like that all day. So far it's just been guns like the Genii on both sides. Artisan, the equivalent of the mayor as far as I can tell, didn't indicate either side had anything more."

"So he told you about the civil war and you didn't leave?" asked Rodney.

McDaniel narrowed his eyes at Rodney. "Well he told me about ten minutes after the attack began. Apparently he was hoping we could become friends so he could talk us out of some weapons before the other side attacked the town. Obviously that didn't happen. By the time we realized what was going on, we couldn't get to the gate so we fell back here."

Another explosion had the building shaking and crumbling over their heads. "We need to get out of here," said Ronon.

"Yeah, I think they're getting closer. Let's fall back to the jumper. Rodney, you and Teyla take point and lead us back. Ronon and I will take our six."

"_Colonel, you've got hostiles almost to your position. I'd suggest you guys get out while you still can."_

John tapped his radio. "On our way out now. Keep me posted." McDaniel and Nuhung had Crenshaw up and supported him from either side. They left the building as John had dictated with John and Ronon giving cover fire for the others. John was the last one out, waiting until Ronon had reached the safety of the wall along the side of the next building and waved at him to come. Two steps from the door, the building behind him blew up and sent him flying across the yard, along with most of one wall.

oOo

John was uncomfortable. No, it was more than that. He hurt. Almost everywhere. What the heck had happened? There were voices that he couldn't seem to focus on enough to understand. And something else. It finally hit him that the other noises were the sounds of a battle being waged. And it was very close. The jolt of adrenalin unleashed by that realization helped him focus on what was being said over his head. A voice pitched high in panic was going about a thousand miles an hour.

" . . . bleeding out while we stand here. We are surrounded in case you haven't noticed, encompassed by enemy soldiers who are going to overrun our position in seconds and slaughter us all where we stand. Or lie in the colonel's case. But he's already halfway there so it doesn't count. I'm telling you if we don't –"

"McKay! Calm. Down." Lorne was the only one John knew who could shout in a whisper. "We are not going to be overrun by the enemy unless you keep talking. So stop."

His eyes now open, he looked up to find his head was in Teyla's lap. "I believe John is awake," she said softly.

Lorne squatted down near his side while Ronon stood behind him. "How are you doing, sir?"

"Happened?" John asked, biting down on his lower lip as pain flashed down his side and back like a bolt of lightning. He was remembering more and more and part of what he remembered was that Lorne was supposed to be in an airborne jumper.

"One of their explosive devices hit the building as you were attempting to leave. You were thrown very far by the blast and have been injured," said Teyla.

"We saw it from the air, sir. I'm thinking you might have a place on the Olympic team, I'm just not sure whether you should go for the high jump or gymnastics," said Lorne.

"Neither," said Rodney. "He can't seem to stick a landing for gymnastics and he'd miss that big cushion thing they land on for the high jump."

"Ev'one's a critic," John mumbled. "Wha' bout McDaniel's team?"

"They are safe at the jumper," answered Teyla. "We arrived as Major Lorne was landing."

Lorne looked sheepish as he explained. "We could tell you'd been injured in the blast and we weren't sure if Ronon was okay, so I fired a couple of drones to drive the enemy forces back and we landed to come get you."

Rodney snorted. "Some rescue. Now we're surrounded and can't get to the jumper."

John looked back to Lorne for an answer. The major shrugged his shoulder. "We did get cut off from the jumper . . . for now. Tyson, Ramirez, and Dorton are on their way to us. We'll do the sandwich routine and have you out of here in no time, sir."

John nodded. He'd offer to help, but he was pretty sure he couldn't move. Every time he breathed too deeply, it felt like something was stabbing him in the side. His right pant leg over his thigh felt like it was soaking wet, which probably meant he was bleeding. No, he thought maybe he'd sit this one out and let Lorne handle it.

The major touched his radio and stood. "They're in position, sir. Teyla, you and Dr. McKay keep watch over the colonel while we go help clear a path. Then we can all go home."

Rodney winced. "Stay here? By ourselves? What if soldiers come?"

Ronon slapped him on the back of the head. "Then shoot them."

"Ow, what did you do that for? Sheppard, did you see that?"

John sighed. "Rodney, be quiet."

Rodney glared at the smiling Satedan as he passed, but John could tell there was no real anger. He could read his team like a book most days. And they could usually read him. They were in a bad situation, but he wasn't worried. He knew his team. He knew Lorne. He had no doubt they would make it back to Atlantis. He guessed that trust thing worked both ways, because he trusted these people with his life. No argument. No question. Secure in the knowledge his people would get him home, John let the darkness pull him under.

oOo

John had been in and out for a while, that much he knew. He vaguely remembered people talking to him, asking questions, offering pain medicine. Most of it seemed like a dream he couldn't really remember though. This time when he surfaced, he could think and he was a lot more aware of his surroundings. He could hear Marie and Carson talking somewhere. Shuffling and scraping noises erupted next to his bed prompting him to work on opening his eyes.

"I'll get Carson," Rodney said.

John opened his eyes to Teyla standing on the left side of the bed with Ronon right behind her. "Are you awake this time?" she asked with a smile.

"Think so," John croaked out.

Rodney returned with Carson in tow. That turned out to be a good thing for John because Carson came bearing water for him to sip. Once his thirst was quenched, John was finally awake enough to take stock of himself. He was clad in his least favorite infirmary attire, a gown. Propped on his left side by a mound of pillows, he glanced down at the IV in the back of his left hand. His arm was peppered with tiny nicks and scratches. His upper right arm and shoulder were heavily bandaged, while the lower arm looked much like his left. Shifting slightly, he could feel more bandages secured around his torso, as well as a large one around his upper right leg.

Carson finished his check of John's vitals and paused to look down on his patient. "How's the pain level, Colonel?"

John thought for a second before answering. "Kind of a fuzzy five right now."

Carson smiled and nodded while Rodney snorted. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

Ronon turned to look at the scientist and shrugged one shoulder. "What he said. I got it."

Teyla laid her hand on John's arm. "I also believe I understand what you are saying. I am glad to see you looking better."

John groaned. "If this is looking better then I'm glad I was too unconscious to see me before." He knew he was pale from what little he could see of himself and he seemed to be covered in varying sizes of cuts and bruises. He could feel that his lip was split and it felt like there were stitches over his right eye. He had to look awful.

"Believe it or not, you do look better. When we dragged you onto the jumper you looked like this," Rodney said as he waved his hand dramatically at the pilot. "But with blood and dirt all over the place. I've seen zombies that looked healthier."

John arched an eyebrow. "Zombies?"

Ronon narrowed his eyes. "You saw zombies? Aren't those the walking dead people? Where?" His hand seemed to automatically gravitate toward his gun.

Rodney noticed, stepping back and holding up both hands. "Whoa, Conan, not for real. I meant in movies and video games. Although given everything we've encountered in this mixed up galaxy, I wouldn't be surprised if we came across some."

John would have laughed if he wasn't so sure it would hurt. Carson just closed his eyes a moment before returning his attention to John. "Let me know if the pain begins to get worse before your next dose of meds."

"Will do," John said. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but what's the damage?"

Carson sighed dramatically, which annoyed John a little. "Well, lad, this time we have a concussion and too many shrapnel wounds to count. The worst ones were down your right side, right arm, and right side of your back, as I'm sure you're aware. I also pulled a large piece of metal out of your leg. I put a fair amount of stitches in those so don't be wiggling around and undoing all my fine needlework."

John grimaced at the needlework comment. "I think I'm too weak to wiggle right now. Anyone else injured?"

"Aye, there was one lad with a bullet in his leg."

"Crenshaw," John offered.

"Aye, that was him. We removed the bullet and repaired the tissue damage. He should be fine in a few weeks. I'll let him out with crutches in a day or two. His team has him out on the balcony in a wheelchair for some air right now. Other than that, it was just some bumps and bruises."

John relaxed back against the pillows, relieved at the confirmation that all his people came home in one piece. Apparently his team wasn't the only one with a bad sense of timing.

"You can visit for a bit, but then the colonel needs to get some rest. His body bloody well needs sleep for his body to heal." Patting John on the leg, Carson headed for his office. On the way out, he passed Lorne coming in.

"Major," John said. "I think I owe you a word of thanks."

Lorne grinned and bobbed his head once. "You're very welcome sir. I'm pretty sure I remember you pulling my team's butt from the fire a few times, so just consider it payback. I just came by to see how you feel."

"Feel kind of like I got blown up," John said.

"Humph," Rodney snorted. "That's Sheppard speak for I hurt all over but I'm never going to admit that."

Ronon nodded like that was a perfectly acceptable thing to do, which John appreciated since it was basically true. He sighed and glanced up at the major. "And thanks for not saying I told you so on the rescue thing."

Lorne thinned his lips and looked at the floor. "Well, I actually had to kind of get rescued with you when we got cut off from the jumper. I guess we should both be thanking Ronon and Ramirez. Man, you get those two going on either side of the enemy and they kick some butt."

John grinned and nodded at Ronon, who was almost beaming with pride. That sent a warm thrill through him since Ronon rarely showed that much emotion. He was so glad to see the Satedan really making Atlantis his home, not just a place he lived. John thought about how fortunate he was to not only be here, but to be surrounded by such good people. Although he had the most faith in his core team, Atlantis herself was kind of like an expanded team.

"He's got that goofy, drugged look again," said Rodney.

John could feel the heat creep up his neck. He didn't even know how to respond to that.

One corner of Lorne's mouth crooked up and he could swear the man was seeing his thoughts. Apparently his second could read him pretty well too. He refused to look at his team, but he could see enough of Teyla in his peripheral vision to know she was smiling. _Crap._

"Well, now that we've struck the colonel speechless, my work here is done. I'll let you get some rest, sir. And don't worry about the debrief. I already took care of that. I'll type up the report and then you can add your part in when you're better. We also locked that planet out of the DHD to keep from wandering into their little war in the future. I'll check in with you later." Lorne nodded at John and his team and left, still smiling.

The major had done such an outstanding job on everything John couldn't even be annoyed. He'd really liked Ford and missed him terribly some times, but the kid was had been too young and inexperienced for the position he'd been thrust into. Lorne was more than ready and John had come to appreciate that on multiple occasions. It definitely made things easier on him.

"We also should let you rest," said Teyla. She gripped his free hand for a moment and then tapped Rodney on the shoulder. The scientist looked confused a moment and then said his goodbyes as he followed her out.

Ronon pulled one of the chairs up to the bed and propped his feet on something under the edge. John watched him settle in like he'd be there for a while.

"I'm just going to sleep big guy. You don't have to stay."

Ronon shrugged his shoulders. "Even when I'm in a safe place, sometimes I still feel edgy, especially after a mission gone wrong. I've got your six, Sheppard. Sleep."

He really did have the best team ever.

oOo

John took a swig of his beer and sighed, staring at the photograph in his hand. A much younger John stood beside Mitch, Dex, and Holland in front of the Pave Hawk that would be taken out with an RPG two weeks later, along with two of his friends.

"Sorry, guys. I guess I let you down. All three of you. I never planned on being the only one who survived." He lifted his beer as if toasting. "Happy five year anniversary Mitch, Dex. Holland, I'll catch you in a few months for yours." Putting the bottle to his lips, he turned it up for a big drink, almost choking when someone knocked, or rather banged, on the door.

"Crap," he muttered, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Throwing the picture on the bed, he limped to the door, picking up the pace when the loud knocking continued. "Keep your panties on, I'm coming."

John opened the door to find his team there. Almost instantly, Rodney pushed past him into the room.

"Where were you? You missed supper you know, including the brownies they had for dessert." There was a brief pause as Rodney stared at him. "Are you drinking?"

John sighed and looked from Rodney back to Teyla and Ronon, who were apparently polite enough to wait for an invitation to come in. Funny how the "aliens" knew more about social etiquette than an Earthling, or at least respected it more. John waved his beer toward the room. "Might as well come in. Rodney seems to be making himself at home." He ignored the concerned looks he was getting as his teammates entered his room.

Rodney pointed to the two empty bottles on the nightstand. "How many of these have you had? Should you be drinking? Aren't you on pain medicine? I don't think you're supposed to mix those with alcohol."

John just stood looking at Rodney for several seconds and then slowly drank a pull off his beer. Okay, maybe he was winding Rodney up on purpose, but seriously, he was asking for it. "You can count the last I checked. Two empties plus one," he raised the beer in his hand, "make three." And I skipped my pain meds because I wanted a beer or two. I'm not on active duty for several more days, so I think I'm good." He was two and a half weeks out from getting blown up. He had shifted from pain meds to Tylenol a few days ago but he wasn't getting into that discussion with Rodney.

"Two of these men look familiar," said Teyla. John winced when he saw the photograph in her hand. Ronon and Rodney looked over her shoulder.

"Where was this? Iraq? Afghanistan?" asked Rodney.

"What's the machine? Does it fly?" asked Ronon.

Teyla's eyes widened and she looked up at John. "These were the two men who came to your home when we thought we were on earth. The ones you said were dead."

John swallowed, trying to push the knot in his throat down. "Yeah, Mitch and Dex. We were in Afghanistan together, until they got taken out by an RPG."

"How long ago was this?" asked Rodney.

"They were killed five years ago . . . today."

"Oh," said Rodney.

"I am sorry, John," said Teyla. "You seemed to be very close to them. I know the loss is hard."

"What about the other guy? Is he still around?" asked Ronon, looking up from the photo.

John licked his lips and looked away. "Holland. No, he was killed a few months after Mitch and Dex."

"He is the man you saw when we were under the influence of the Wraith machine, the man you thought you were helping when you helped me," said Teyla. "The one you were unable to save."

John didn't answer, just turned his bottle up to finish his beer. It was his last one and man, did he wish he had a few more. This had been bad enough when he'd been alone. It was almost unbearable now. He flinched when Teyla touched his arm and then looked down at her. Somehow her calm and serene expression put him at ease. Only Teyla could do that.

"John, I know you mourn your friends, but my people have found comfort in celebrating the life of those we love instead of focusing on their loss. It does not take the pain away, but many times it can be tempered with the joy of the time we had with them. Perhaps you would honor us by telling us about them."

John glanced at the picture, at the smiles on all their faces and remembered how his friends could always make him laugh. Maybe she had a point. Brooding about how he had failed them or how much he missed them certainly hadn't helped. Maybe it was time to remember the good times along with the bad. "I think I'd like that," he said softly.

He'd spent a lot of time reflecting on people in his life, his friends and his teammates during his recovery time, something very out of character for him. Maybe getting older brought on bouts of nostalgia and philosophy. Or maybe it was regularly almost dying. Either way, he'd discovered a few things. Both his old team and his new were the best of friends. He would lay down his life for any of them and he knew they'd do the same. But the trust he'd developed with this new group wasn't there with Mitch and Dex. Maybe a little more with Holland, but not to the extent he shared with his current crew. He wasn't sure if that came with age and experience or it was just differences in temperament. But while he missed his friends from Afghanistan, he didn't think he could make it without his Lantean team. Certainly not if he lost all of them.

Five years ago, Mitch and Dex and Holland had made up a very important part of his life and he still missed them a lot. They had had some wonderful times together. So maybe he should extend his trust in his team to more than just saving his life. He looked from the picture to each of his teammates. Teyla was right. It was time to share his old team with his new one.

The end


End file.
